


Wintersend

by anoncanon



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:23:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoncanon/pseuds/anoncanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is so cheesy Alistair would be proud of me.</p><p>It's Wintersend!<br/>Feast, gifts, fun times with friends and loved ones :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning

**Author's Note:**

> **This was written prior to the release of Trespasser.

When Dorian woke up that morning, he was surprised to find the Inquisitor still sleeping beside him. He was used to waking up with the sun, especially when he slept here, only to find the bed empty and cold. Too often, he would be asleep when the Inquisitor turned in for the night and wake up to find the man gone already; a handwritten note on the couch the only sign that he had been there at all.

Not this morning, apparently. He turned to face the sleeping man, slowly as to not wake him up, but the man groaned and snuggled closer to Dorian.

“I don’t often get to see you in the morning,” Dorian said softly.

“It’s Wintersend. My advisors’ gift to me is to let me sleep for a couple of hours this morning. They told me they’ll send someone pick me up when my presence will be a necessity.”

“I can work with that,” Dorian said as he moved to straddle the Inquisitor, pushing him to lay on his back in the process. He leaned down, his hands on the bed, and kissed the other man hungrily. The response was immediate, with the Inquisitor moaning into the kiss and grabbing Dorian by the hips.

The loud knock on the door came some time later, as they were both catching their breath, sweaty and spent, lying on the bed in a tangle of limbs and linens.

Dorian chuckled, “I think it’s the first time that sound is not interrupting anything. We’re not exactly presentable, but it is still not catching us _en flagrant délit_.”

“I don’t think I can get up to answer, though...”

The courier banged on the door again, louder, presuming the Inquisitor might still be sleeping.

“I- I can’t,” the Inquisitor laughed, before shouting at the door. “Just a moment!”

He paused for a breath, before struggling to sit on the edge of the bed. Grabbing a sheet from the bed, he got up and walked to the stairs unsteadily, wrapping himself in the fabric as he went.

Dorian heard the door creak open, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He shivered, the morning air cold on his skin. He sat up to reach the bedcovers and buried himself under them. He soon heard the door close.

The Inquisitor walked back up but he headed toward the hidden cabinet rather than the bed. He came out of it shortly after, fully dressed and groomed, and sat on the bed, leaning down to kiss Dorian.

“I have to go, can we have lunch together? I’ll come see you in the library when we break the meeting,” he asked between kisses. “You can stay here as long as you want.”

Dorian nodded and pulled the Inquisitor closer, kissing him deeply. He was able to steal a couple more kisses before the other man broke away with a groan.

The Inquisitor stood up and cleared his throat. He smiled at Dorian, then turned around and strode toward the stairs. One last look and a smile and he was gone. The door clicked shut and Dorian flopped on his back. He sighed contentedly, enjoying what remained of the other man’s warmth.


	2. Lunch

“What are you reading?”

Dorian was startled out of his thoughts. The Inquisitor was standing to his right, leaning against a bookshelf.

“Mirdromel’s _Beyond the Veil: Spirits and Demons_. It has interesting notions regarding the Black City,” Dorian said as he got up from his chair.

“I’m sorry I’m this late. Hungry?”

“Starving,” Dorian replied. He led the way down the stairs. “How did the meeting go?”

“Not too bad. A good deal of it was spent finalizing things for the feast tonight, which is a nice change from our usual topics…”

They emerged in the hall. The long tables along the walls had been cleared.

“Mh. Looks like we’ll have to go to the kitchens, then,” Dorian said.

They quickly made their way across the hall and through the door, then down the stairs. The point was to walk with enough of a purpose that no one would think to stop the Inquisitor to talk to him. If that was to happen, they’d learned it could go on forever. The room at the bottom of the stairs was vast and quiet. There wasn’t much of interest down here, so it was mostly people from the kitchen walking through to get the food to the tables in the hall and then back to their work. At the moment, they were the only two persons there.

The Inquisitor put his hands on Dorian’s hips from behind, stopping him. He closed the distance between them and started kissing Dorian’s neck.

“I don’t think you should be doing that, not _here_ ,” Dorian said, his voice low.

“No one’s here.” The Inquisitor kissed just below the ear, then bit the earlobe lightly.

Dorian opened his mouth to retort something, but he was cut short by the sound of a door opening and closing nearby.

“This way,” the Inquisitor whispered, leading Dorian to a door at the far end of the room. With a flick of his fingers, he removed the magical lock and opened the door. He led Dorian in the dark space then closed the door.

“Isn’t this the dusty, dank closet of a library with an ancient desiccated corpse and enough cobwebs to make a-” The Inquisitor interrupted him with a kiss, pushing Dorian back against a bookshelf.

“It’s fine now, I cleaned it up,” the man said, before kissing his way down Dorian’s neck.

Dorian felt the shelves behind him and couldn’t find a trace of dust. His fingers brushed against leather and cloth book bindings, some creased, some flawless. He couldn’t pick up the smell of mold or dust in the air either. It was more like a faint odor of cedar and mint.

“ _Amatus_ \- wait,” Dorian said, moving out of his boyfriend’s grasp.

With a fluid hand gesture, Dorian made a flame appear over the palm of his hand, then walked  toward the desk. There was a cluster of candles there and he lit them up with the fire. The place had been cleaned from one corner to the other. The desk was shiny, there was a brand new chair, a pile of blank and pristine parchment sheets and a simple, new ink stand.

Dorian turned to the Inquisitor, “Your new hidden corner? The Inquisitor’s cave?”

“No. I was thinking I’d offer the place to the Inquisition’s rebellious, heretic archivist…”

Dorian stared, wide-eyed. “You can’t be serious.”

The other man shrugged, “If you want it, it’s yours. I thought maybe you’d like a quiet place, with a desk, to work. Location is a bit lackluster but it is very quiet… And clean.”

The Inquisitor walked closer to the desk, “There are a lot of books here too… And I promise I’ll come visit. We might even make out--” He chuckled at Dorian’s frown.

“Is that all you ever think about,” Dorian asked, feigning irritation. He walked to the Inquisitor, leading him backwards until the man’s backside bumped into the desk. “I can’t blame you,” he added, “you get to make out with _me_.”

“I know. I’m the lucky one,” the Inquisitor replied with a lopsided grin. Dorian leaned in and kissed him quiet.

Dorian broke the kiss and took a step back, “Another time perhaps, right now I’m more interested in getting something to eat.”

The Inquisitor gasped, his expression pretend shock. His features shifted into a lewd expression and he laughed. “I… will not share the very crude thing that just came to mind.”

Dorian shoved him toward the door, “And _thank you_ for that.”

He blew the candles and they left, Dorian locking the door with his own signature magic lock. 


	3. Afternoon

Dorian finished his round of gift-giving with a bottle of fine wine, left to Vivienne along with a note, on her table. He rather liked the lot of them, the _Inquisitor’s companions_. And he had enjoyed the self-imposed challenge of finding little gifts for everyone.

He walked to his small room with the intention of retrieving the gift he had prepared for the Inquisitor before going up to wait for him in the man’s much larger quarters. To his surprise, a small pile of gifts was waiting for him by his door. He picked them up with a smile before letting himself in. He took a moment, sitting on his bed, to unwrap them all and read the notes.

When he left the room, he had a broad smile on his face. He had put the Inquisitor’s gift in a wooden crate, small enough that he could carry it under one arm. Everyone was so busy getting the hall prepared for the feast that he made his way unnoticed, slipping quietly through the door at the far end.

The Inquisitor’s rooms were silent. The state of the room told him that staff had been here for maintenance, but it was now empty. The bed was made, the half-empty plates of food taken away and the wood bin by the fireplace had been refilled. Dorian went to put his crate down in a corner of the alcove that harbored the washbasin and other toiletries. He hid it behind an empty pail and a pile of clean rags.

As he walked out of the alcove, he noticed a small parcel on the couch. Upon closer inspection, it proved to be a gift for him, left by the Inquisitor, with a small note. Dorian took the paper and unfolded it.

“ _To make the wait more palatable_.”

He put the paper aside and unwrapped the bundle, revealing a small bottle and a box with a red ribbon around it.

“Ah! This can’t be what I think it is,” he said to himself, out loud.

He pulled on the ribbon and opened the box. It contained candied dates, neatly presented.

“ _Maker’s breath_. It is.”

He sat on the couch next to the parcel and contemplated the dates, before ceremoniously picking one up and biting it in half. With a moan of pleasure, he melted into the couch, eyes closed. He put the other half in his mouth and chewed on it slowly.

Suddenly a bit self-aware, he cleared his throat and sat up straighter.

“It’s probably a good thing no one is here at the moment, it means I don’t have to explain… and I don’t have to share either.”

He took the bottle to read the label. As he expected, it was a bottle of the beverage often served with the dates, an infusion of torrefied beans and spices that was buttery and rich, intended to contrast the sweetness of the confection. He considered doing as the note had suggested and lazily consume his gift while waiting for the Inquisitor, but he realized -not without surprise- that he might actually prefer to do all that in the company of his boyfriend and share the gift with him.

He set the box down, then got up to get something to drink and a random book from the shelves. There was a pitcher full of water and wine in a decanter, there for his usage since the Inquisitor wasn’t fond of wine, but Dorian opted for the water. He didn’t want to risk muddying his memories of what was turning out to be a fairly good Wintersend day so far. He sat down at the Inquisitor’s desk and started reading.

The sound of the door creaking open took him out of the book some time later, though he couldn’t say for how long he’d been reading. As he looked up, he saw the Inquisitor climb the last of the stairs and walk toward him. He had fresh clothes on him, the shirt untucked, and soft indoor boots on his feet. There was a towel around his neck and his hair was damp and messy. It really wasn’t a bad look on him.

The Inquisitor walked around the desk to face Dorian and bowed slightly.

“Lord Pavus, what an honor it is to welcome you here tonight. I wish you the best for this holiday and I’m looking forward to future relations with you and your...  _office_.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow, “My _office_?”

The other man just looked at him, trying his best to keep a serious expression. He suddenly broke and burst out laughing, until he had tears in his eyes and was holding his sides. Dorian couldn’t help but join in at some point, though he was clearly more amused by the state of his companion than by his crude humor.

“Forgive me. If Josephine ever wants to entertain that many nobles at once in the future, remind me to schedule a trip to the far end of the Hissing Wastes at the same time,” the Inquisitor said as he regained his composure. He extended a hand toward Dorian. “My love, I am exhausted. Can I convince you to join me on this very fine bed for a nap? I can’t laugh at everything I say to the nobles tonight. Well, not until either them or me are drunk out of their mind.”

Dorian got up, ignoring the proffered hand. He grabbed the ends of the towel around the Inquisitor’s neck, using it to bring the man’s face closer to his own, and kissed him.

“Thank you for the gifts,” he said quietly.

The Inquisitor wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist, “I’m glad you like them.”

They made their way to the bed, settling comfortably on the covers. The Inquisitor fell asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes. Dorian took his time, letting the warmth and familiar scent of his companion lull him to sleep. He was startled awake by someone knocking on the door. For the second time that day, the Inquisitor got up groggily and walked to the door. Dorian sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing sleep off his eyes.

The other man came back up the stairs with a pile of neatly folded finery. He dropped it on the bed next to Dorian, a frown on his face.

“I’m not sure I remember how to properly put those on. I’m not even sure which Josephine had made, in the end. All I remember is trying on way too many clothes, in a fancy store that smelled of cedarwood and talc.” He rummaged through the pile, picking up the off-white undershirt. “Now I know this one goes on first… but I might need your help for the rest,” he added with a pleading look to Dorian.

When they finished dressing him up in all the finery, he looked like a different person. The fabrics were rich, the colors were deep and uniform, the patterns elaborate. The cut was perfect; these garments wouldn’t fit as well on anyone else.

“Mh,” Dorian replied as he took a step back to contemplate the result. “You are... magnificent. Almost as handsome as I am.”

“Impossible.”

“I know,” Dorian retorted with mock disbelief. “What about your hair?”

The Inquisitor groaned and walked to the alcove with his toiletries. He came out a moment later with his hair brushed away from his face, tied in the back with a leather cord. It was simple, but very much “him”. The outfit was so perfect, to have his hair be something much more rudimentary made it come together nicely.

“That works,” Dorian said.

“It’s getting late, we should go. Josephine and Leliana will probably fuss with everything when they see me; they can fix it if they don’t like it.”

They walked out of the room, heading for the main hall.

“I still have to go change, I’ll see you later,” Dorian said.

Just before they reached the door to the hall, the Inquisitor caught Dorian’s arm and spun him around.

“One more thing,” he said before kissing him. He pulled back briefly then stole another kiss.

“If you don’t go do your job,” Dorian whispered, “they’ll roast you on a spit and serve you to the nobles at the feast.”

“You’re aware the only difference between that and reality is the spit, right?”

“I’ll see you later,” Dorian said before opening the door and walking out into the hall. 


	4. Evening

Skyhold was more alive than ever, with the celebration taking place all over the castle. Outside, on the grounds, were big feast tables groaning under the weight of the food laid on them. There were casks of various sizes near the tables and anyone was free to drink as much as they wanted, or could. In the castle hall, everything was more elaborate and fancier, from the food to the ornaments, to the outfits. Most of the nobles stayed in the hall, talking and celebrating amongst themselves.

Dorian had been there for a while now. He had kept an eye on the Inquisitor during the evening, but hadn’t seen him alone for more than a second. The moment someone stopped talking to him and left, someone else came along. Then, finally, he saw him gesture and bow to one noble, extricating himself from the conversation to stride in the general direction of the restrooms.

Never lifting his eyes from the Inquisitor’s form, Dorian finished his glass of wine and headed in the same direction as the other man, trying his best to appear casual. He was fairly sure no one was paying attention to him. When he got to the corridor, he saw the heels of the Inquisitor’s boots disappear behind the restrooms’ doorway. With one final look behind him to make sure no one was coming in this direction, Dorian moved to hide in the shadows of a crossing hall and waited.

The Inquisitor passed by a few minutes later and Dorian caught him by the arm, pulling him back in the shadows.

“Oh-- hey,” the Inquisitor whispered. He kissed Dorian, not letting him reply.

“It’s not an easy task to talk with you in a hall full of nobles,” Dorian said.

“I almost had to be crude to get the man to understand I had to use the facilities…” He took a half step back to look at Dorian. “How come I’ve never seen you in those clothes, they flatter you,” he added.

“It’s not like we often take the finery out… Maybe if we went on dates more, say, in fancy restaurants, luxuriant inns, or pristine bathhouses? We roam the countryside way too much.” Dorian replied with a smirk.

“Inquisitor?” The voice had come from the hallway. “Inquisitor, are you here?”

The Inquisitor dropped his head on Dorian’s shoulder and mumbled incoherent curses.

“I let you go, then,” Dorian said, “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be proceeding to the tavern.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” the man replied. “Hopefully sooner than later.”

The Inquisitor went back to the hall while Dorian walked the network of corridors until he emerged on the grounds. He got to the tavern, where the celebrations were even louder and messier. He soon found the table with the rest of their group and spent time with them, playing cards and drinking the cheap wine of the tavern. He was thankful that everyone was mostly drunk, so that no one would notice that Dorian wasn’t refilling his glass often.

When the Inquisitor finally arrived at the tavern, the welcoming roar was deafening. He did his rounds, talking and laughing with everyone. When the two of them felt that everyone was too far gone to even notice, they left and made their way back to the Inquisitor’s quarters.

 

 


	5. Night (part1)

Dorian closed and locked the door behind him with a sigh of relief. He wearily climbed the stairs.

The Inquisitor was sitting on the couch, struggling with the clasps of his boots. He gave up the boots and fussed with the ties of his coat, before surrendering to the knots and collapsing on the couch. He sighed.

“These were a pain to put on, I don’t think it’ll be any easier to take them off.”

“How drunk are you?” Dorian asked with a smirk.

The Inquisitor scowled. “I’m sure I have a pair of scissors somewhere in here…” He made to get up but Dorian pushed him back down on the couch.

“I won’t let you murder these fine clothes. I’ll help _if_ you manage to keep your hands to yourself while I do so.”

The Inquisitor nodded, after a pause.

After the boots, Dorian got the Inquisitor to stand up and took care of the coat and all the other garments until the Inquisitor was in pants and undershirt.

“There,” Dorian said as he placed the last superfluous article of clothing on top of the pile on the couch, next to where the Inquisitor had been seated.

“Can I touch you now?”

“Really, _amatus_ , you are steadfast--” He fell silent when the Inquisitor raised a hand and lightly traced Dorian’s Jawline. The touch was delicate, controlled. He then lowered his hand.

Dorian blinked, “What, that’s it?”

“For now,” the Inquisitor replied with a grin. He raised his hands to the cord tying his hair and shook it loose. “Oh, I have a gift for you!” He  exclaimed as he started for the ladder that climbed to the upper balcony of his rooms.

“Up there?” Dorian asked before adding in a lower voice, “Wait, _another_ gift?”

“What did you say?” the Inquisitor replied loudly as he rummaged in the crates stored on the balcony.

“Nothing.” Dorian removed his boots, his coat and his jewelry and went to sit down on the bed. The Inquisitor climbed down a moment later and sat down next to him. He extended his hand, holding in it a neatly wrapped rectangular parcel.

Dorian took the gift and started unwrapping it. It contained a book and a small, flat box. He opened the box first, to reveal a piece of dark silk, which he then took out and unfolded.

“Those are… rather _risqué_ ,” Dorian finally commented.

“What, really?” the other man asked, frowning.

Dorian’s composure cracked and he chuckled, “I’m from _Tevinter_ , nothing is too _risqué_ for me. I was just fooling with you. Though, is that a gift for me or for you, when it comes to it?”

“I’ll let you decide.”

“Fair enough.” Dorian put the silky item back in the box and set it aside to look at the book. It was a masterful work of bookbinding and judging from the particular style, it had come all the way from Antiva. He opened it to realize it was blank.

“To fill with whatever you see fit,” the Inquisitor explained. “You spend so much time with books, it makes sense that you would eventually contribute to the lot of them.”

Dorian was quiet for a moment, “That is very thoughtful.”

“You like it?”

“Yes.” He got up to put the book and the box next to the dates from earlier, on the Inquisitor’s desk. As he saw the collection, he realized that those were far more personal and, to be honest, more expensive than what he had expected.

“Mh,” Dorian said as he turned to face the Inquisitor, “there was this morning’s exertions, then the dates, now the book and the silky underthing…” He paused. “The official workspace, too. Oh, and the excellent wine you gave me last week because I was there when it was delivered. And the _other_ silky underthing. You spoil me.”

The Inquisitor raised an eyebrow. “The _official_ working space is an _official_ gift. This morning doesn’t count and we ruined the other silky underthing.”

“Even then.” Dorian smiled, but it turned bitter. He looked at the small pile of gifts. “From where I’m from, it’s exactly the kind of thing one would do to cover feelings of guilt.”

“Guilt? Over what?”

“Cheating, lying… breaking up.” He couldn’t help but think back to all those times he’d been discarded by a lover, after an unforgettable night or after receiving a large amount of gifts, as a way of thanking him for being the dutiful plaything.

When Dorian turned to look at the Inquisitor, the man had gone a shade paler and was staring at Dorian, horrified.

“You can’t possibly think that was my plan.”

“No, clearly not.” Dorian walked to the other man and kissed him softly. “I only meant to say that experience makes me wonder why.”

“It’s a Wintersend tradition here?” The Inquisitor looked down, away from Dorian. “I had many gift ideas and I wasn’t sure I’d manage to acquire any of them so I went for all of them. As it turns out, all my inquiries yielded results…”

“You didn’t have to give them all to me at once.”

There was a pause. “I guess.” The Inquisitor stood up from the bed and walked to the fireplace. He extended his hands toward the heat of the fire. “You’re right. I got them _for_ Wintersend so I didn’t- It didn’t occur to me to… spread them out.”

There was something off in the manners of the Inquisitor. How he would avoid looking at Dorian. How he was actually standing in front of the fire, when Dorian couldn’t think of a single time since the avalanche that he’d seen that man feel cold.

“ _Amatus_ , you’re hiding something.”

The Inquisitor’s movement froze for a second, then resumed. “I’m not hiding anything--”

Dorian walked to him and took the Inquisitor’s hands in his. He brought one to his lips and kissed the knuckles. “Your hands are not even cold. You’re skilled in many ways, but lying isn’t one of them.”

The other man sighed. “It’s nothing- There’s noth- I’m not hiding anything! I just-” He groaned, “And I _can_ lie, just… not to you, apparently.”

“I won’t complain about that, but I’m not letting this go until you tell me what it is you’re attempting to hide from me.”

“It’s nothing,” the Inquisitor repeated.

“Well, if it’s _nothing_ , you might as well tell me.”

They stared at one another and ultimately, the Inquisitor lost. He dropped his head with a sigh, “Alright. I had another gift idea first but it was more… complex and it didn’t pan out. I panicked and seeked many other items at once, so I ended up with many gifts. I should have kept a few to give to you at a later date but I was still nervous from the first plan being a bust and I wasn’t thinking so I gave you all the gifts at once.” He looked up at Dorian, “I was afraid you’d feel the gifts are insufficient.”

“Why didn’t you want to tell me that, it’s pretty tame as far a secrets go.”

“I don’t know. This is the first time I get to spend Wintersend with someone I… care about. I’m sorry if I’m a bit too eager.”

Dorian rested his head on his companion’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist. He felt hands on his hips, the touch light and intimate.

“You’re fine, don’t worry,” Dorian said, his voice low. “I have to ask, what was your first idea?”

“What?” Dorian felt the Inquisitor tense.

“The thing that didn’t work out, what was it?”

“I’d… I’d rather not say.”

“Mh. Maybe I can guess… A cask of Ferelden vinegar--I mean, wine? A trip to Fallow Mire? A _tête à tête_ with Mother Giselle? An Orlesian tickler?”

“Do I wanna know what that is?”

“ _Maybe_. Am I close to finding out?”

“I’d really prefer to not tell you.”

“I promise I won’t be angry… and I won’t laugh, however bad it might be.”

“Those reactions would be a relief, not an insult.”

Dorian snorted. “Whether you mean to or not, you’re a terrible tease. You _have_ to tell me.”

The Inquisitor stayed silent.

“If you thought of it as a gift, and you initially wanted to give it to me, it can’t possibly be that bad.“ The Inquisitor looked miserable. Dorian realized he was getting uncomfortable with how far he was pushing the other man. If this didn’t work, he would drop the subject.

“Alright, but with the condition that you’ll let me explain after.”

Dorian smiled, “Deal.”

The Inquisitor went to his desk and opened one of the drawers. He took a small item out, handed it to Dorian and walked away from the fireplace, to one of the large windows. It was a soft fabric bag, made from damask and velvet. It wasn’t full nor heavy. Dorian opened it and emptied its content in his other hand. It contained a simple item of dark metal. It shone under the light of the fire, the color deep and rich.

“It’s… a ring,” Dorian finally stated.


	6. Night (part 2)

The Inquisitor was still silent, with his back to Dorian. The silence stretched on, filling the room.

“That was your idea? I thought you said it didn’t work out.” Dorian frowned, trying to make sense of the situation. He walked to the bed and sat down, positioning himself so he was facing the Inquisitor. “Were you planning to propose some sort of _engagement_?”

He saw the Inquisitor twitch at the word. “ _That’s_ what made me doubt it was a good idea.” His voice was quiet, uncharacteristically hesitant. “I wanted to give you some sort of keepsake. I thought, why not a ring, since I’ve seen you wear rings and it’s small, discreet and not cumbersome. Then I realized I’d be _giving you a ring_ and started to worry too much meaning could be read into it. Or too little. I don’t-- I thought maybe it was… too soon. Inappropriate.” He paused, looking at the floor. “Unwanted.”

Dorian felt all his nagging fears about commitment creep up, but pushed them away. He didn’t quite know what to reply and his attention fell back on the ring in his hand. He took a moment to observe it. “It’s fade-touched, isn’t it? And there seems to be an inscription in it…”

The Inquisitor remained silent, again.

The lighting was too dim for Dorian to make out what the inscription was. He let the silence fill the space once again while trying to sort out his thoughts, then cleared his throat, “You’ve put a lot of thought into this object.” Dorian looked at the other man, but the Inquisitor was looking away, out the window. “And you wouldn’t have given it to me?”

“No, not yet,” the Inquisitor replied quietly, after a while. “I got scared it would make a mess, change what we have. I started overthinking about it and I couldn’t decide what to do so I dropped the idea.”

Dorian tried the ring on, it fit perfectly on his middle finger. “How did you get the fit right?”

“I... borrowed one of your rings.”

“Did you now? _Amatus_ , come here.” Dorian gestured to the spot next to him on the bed.

The Inquisitor slowly padded to the bed but he didn’t sit.

“It doesn’t change anything, except that I now have a new ring. And a very caring lover, but that isn’t exactly new.” Dorian stood up. “Assuming you’ll let me keep the ring?”

“If you want it, of course.” The Inquisitor opened his mouth to add something, but thought better of it and closed it again, then smiled.

Dorian reached to the other man to hold his face and kiss him. “It so happens that I, too, have a gift for you. Take your clothes off and lay on the bed, on your front.”

The Inquisitor looked back, wide-eyed. “What do you--”

“You heard me, I’ll be right back,” Dorian cut in, before going in the direction of the alcove where he had stashed his small crate earlier. Hidden from the Inquisitor’s view, Dorian undressed down to his underwear and slipped on one of the Inquisitor’s old but clean shirts and rolled the sleeves up. He picked up the things from his crate, sorted them in a small pail and covered it with a cloth. He looked at the ring and took it off too, carefully placing it in the pail with the other items. He walked back out.

“I had to borrow a shirt, I hope you won’t mind.” Dorian looked at the other man, “On your _front_ , I said.”

The Inquisitor obliged, “I was just waiting for you to come out. It’s hard to see with a faceful of pillow.”

“I know,” Dorian replied with a smirk. He walked to the bed, placing his pail near the end of the mattress and climbed on top of the Inquisitor until he was straddling the other man’s backside.

“Dorian--”

“Face. Pillow. Now this,” Dorian adjusted his position to be more comfortable, “this is something I don’t do often. Truth be told, I much prefer to have it done to me.” He reached behind him to pick a bottle from the pail. “The fact is that I wanted to do this for you, because... you’re very dear to me.” He warmed up the liquid from the bottle between his hands. “And you do so much, maybe it was time someone else did all the work for you.” He leaned forward to place his hands on the other man’s lower back and slowly massaged up to the shoulders.

The Inquisitor groaned and melted into the bed. At the second passage of Dorian’s hands, he swore incoherently in the pillow.

Dorian chuckled, “I know what you mean.” He proceeded to rub and knead the tension out of the Inquisitor’s back and shoulders as best he could, until his fingers were numb. When he was done, he leaned over to kiss the other man on a shoulder blade and moved to kneel beside him, not before picking the ring from the bottom of the pail. He slid it back on his finger.

The Inquisitor shifted to be able to look at Dorian. “I’m never moving again. Ever.”

“Really?” Dorian replied with a mischievous grin. “How _comfortable_ are you?” he asked in a husky tone.

“Good point,” the Inquisitor replied, before sluggishly rolling to his side.

“Ah, massages,” Dorian mused, looking at the Inquisitor’s lap, “the tension doesn’t disappear, it just goes… _elsewhere_.”

“Um, yeah…”

Dorian leaned in and kissed the Inquisitor. He moved to straddle the other man again, pushing him on his back. His intention had been very clear in his mind but now that he was pushing toward it, a sudden wave of fatigue washed over him. Not that he was tired of spending time with the Inquisitor or the range of their usual activities together; it was just regular fatigue stemming from a long, busy day. He was interrupted in his train of thought when the Inquisitor cleared his throat.

“I can’t believe what I’m about to say,” the Inquisitor’s voice was quiet, “but with the massage and all of the day’s events… I don’t know if I can-” He struggled for words for a brief moment, before giving up with a groan.

“My plan was to do all the work,” Dorian replied, “but to be honest with you, I’m just as tired.”

Dorian took his shirt off and moved to lay on the bed, using the motion to pick up the pail and deposit it on the floor at the same time. They shifted until they settled in a familiar and comfortable way, with Dorian on his back and the Inquisitor nestled half-over him, one arm draped over Dorian’s midsection.

“After all,” the Inquisitor whispered near Dorian’s ear, “that’s still gonna be there in the morning. Or later tonight. Well, not that very one, but- You know what I mean…”

“Do I?”

“I hope so?”

In reply, Dorian slightly ground his hips on the other man’s erection. He was rewarded with a groan. The Inquisitor buried his face in Dorian’s neck and mumbled unintelligibly.

“The sooner we sleep, the sooner we get to the rest,” Dorian added with a smirk. “Good night, _amatus_.”

“‘Night,” the other man replied between kisses, trailing up to Dorian’s mouth. He resettled in the nook of Dorian’s neck. It wasn’t long before his breathing evened out, his body a comfortable weight against Dorian’s.

When he was sure the Inquisitor was asleep, Dorian raised his hand in front of his face, the new ring but a glint in the dark of night.

“Silly man,” he whispered, but only the night heard him. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And done!  
> A great, big, heartfelt "thank you" to you if you've read this :)


End file.
